Questioning Life: A Poem
Do you ever find yourself questioning the meaning of life? Today is Monday. I went into work late as I often do on Mondays. I try not to book anyone for Monday morning if I can help it, just to allow myself to kind of slide into the week slowly…
I often manage to keep the morning free, but not always.
I didn’t have to worry about not booking anyone for Monday morning this week though. It’s school holidays and kind of quiet.
Actually really quiet.
So I went in to the clinic open up, put my signs out and put away all the stuff I’d taken to the markets in the weekend. To at least look like I’m there.
Vacuum cleaner… Well, it’s actually lying on the floor waiting for some use.
So I was pottering around, doing my thing, putting stuff away and then the words below came into my head, and I felt compelled, I mean really really compelled, to write them down.
They’re nothing startling, but they are common.
They’re common in my head when things are quiet.
When there are no distractions…
I begin to question what I’m doing, where I’m going, and whether I’m really living my life.
I begin to think about my craving for travel, fun and freedom.
Sometimes in the quiet,
I find myself asking questions.
Could I see more?
Could I create more?
Could I live more?
Could I be more?
I look up at the mountain
and I ask…
“How could I live?”
“Why am I here?”
“Tell me what you know of me…”
“Tell me what you’ve seen and learned since your creation”
But the answers can’t come from the mountain.
The answers can only come from within.
In the quiet.
THIS is why we crave distraction.
THIS is why we stay busy.
So we can stuff the questions down and keep them hidden. Hidden under the busy-ness, under the latest TV series, under the sports games, under the news, under the politics, under our work…
Pushing away the quiet.
Because from the quiet, come the questions.